


Sundays

by every_fandom_ever



Series: The Soldier's Life [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-19 19:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/every_fandom_ever/pseuds/every_fandom_ever
Summary: Sundays are Bucky's day off--before--





	Sundays

Sundays are special to Bucky. He made a, rather forceful request, to Stark that he not be called in for anything on Sunday. The only reason he would leave was if someone was actively trying to destroy New York. Sam was the one who eventually convinced the man to agree. He was the only Avenger that knows about his everyday life, his everyday life being Steve. Sam had said something about being his therapist and recommending he have one day off. As far as they knew, Bucky huddled in an empty apartment until he got an alert.

Currently, he was lying in his king-size bed, basking in the early morning sun. Steve was still asleep with his face tucked under Bucky’s chin, snoring and probably drooling a little bit. The window was open just enough to let in a slight breeze and the noise from morning traffic. Bucky looked over at the clock, reading  _ ‘eight forty-three’ _ am. He laid there for another half hour before attempting to move. Steve grumbled, tightening his arm around the Soldier’s waist.

“Doll, we gotta get up at some point.”

“Mhm….I dis’gree…”

“We both have to take meds, Stevie,” At the mention of medication, Steve lifted his head, resting his chin on Bucky’s chest. He traced small circles over the bandages on Bucky’s left side. He had come back on Friday from a mission with a fresh set of stitches. 

“How does it feel?”

“Good, but it would feel even better if you let me get up,” Steve reluctantly rolled over, spreading out on his back. “Thanks, Sugar,” Bucky grabbed his sweatpants from the floor, not bothering to grab the shirt next to it. 

The bathroom counter was a mess. Steve’s half consisted of numerous pill bottles, first aid he used for Bucky, and random essential oils he bought often. Bucky’s also had a bunch of pill bottles, first aid, and a lot of hair stuff that Steve had bought him. 

Bucky took out all the pills he needed for that morning, downing them with a bit of water. He gets Steve’s pills together, put them all in the small, plastic cup the man had insisted on buying. He grabs another glass of water and brings both back in the bedroom. Steve had fallen back asleep, so Bucky sets everything on the nightstand. 

“Com’on Stevie, gotta sit up.” He doesn’t open his eyes, but he slowly shimmies his way up the bed until he’s leaning against the headboard. Bucky hands him the medication and watches him take it, finishing off the glass of water. “I’m gonna get breakfast started, with or without you.”

He laughs as Steve rolls off the bed, just managing to land on his feet. Bucky goes into the kitchen. His apartment used to feel cold and empty, barely anything inside. Throughout his months of Therapy with Sam, he actually got himself some furniture and decorations, the biggest thing being his TV. After he met Steve, especially after he moved in, it felt more like a  _ home.  _ There were paintings, most made by Steve, hanging all over the walls, photos were on display of the two, even the random clothes neither man bothered putting away. 

The kitchen always smelled like some dessert Steve had tried making. Today, it was a batch double-chocolate chip cookies sitting in the microwave. Bucky popped one in his mouth before pulling out the egg carton. He pulled two pans from the lazy susan and set it on the stove, also grabbing a small bowl. He mixed together six eggs, two for Steve and four for himself. He adds a bit of milk, salt, and pepper, mixing it all together. While waiting for the stove to heat up, he grabs a bag of frozen hash browns from the freezer. He oils the other pan and pours half the bag in, putting the rest back in the freezer. 

By the time Steve comes out, wearing one of Bucky’s shirts, the Soldier is leaning against the counter, watching everything cook and drinking a glass of orange juice. He goes over to the small radio, turning the volume low. Steve had loved the old jazz Bucky grew up with, even before they met. Steve comes up, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. 

“You got another voicemail from Stark,”

“Ugh, what was it this time?”

“He actually invited you for a dinner tomorrow. Said you should bring your ‘mystery lover who you obviously have and won’t tell me about.’” Bucky sighs, dropping his head on top of Steve’s. “You know, I wouldn’t mind them knowing about us. They would finally stop bothering you.”

“Yeah, but I barely talk to them, much less show any emotions. Bringing you is like...it’s like, showing them this  _ vulnerability  _ and I know that they’re gonna try and involve themselves into  _ this _ and I just-”

“Buck, it’s fine. I get it if you don’t want to, I’m not gonna make you.” Slowly, Steve started to sway to the music, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck. ‘Woodchopper’s Ball’ came on and Steve started leading them. He went to spin, but he had to do a little jump to reach his arm all the way over his head. Bucky laughed, this time spinning Steve with ease. With one hand, he reached behind the smaller man, grabbing the spatula to make sure the eggs didn’t burn. He walked around the kitchen, Steve standing on his feet so he could waddle about. He stretched around Steve to grab plates and silverware. 

By the time he had set everything on the table, Steve had detached himself and was sitting at the table, pouring himself a glass of water. “Any plans for today?” Bucky asked.

“No. I was just gonna work on one of my commissions later this afternoon, you?”

“Nope, though Sam wanted to know if we wanted to come over for dinner.”

“That’s fine, just let me know so I can get  _ all  _ the paint off.” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“Hey you looked great with a yellow nose...and it’s your fault you didn’t look in a mirror before we left.”

“You gave me five minutes to get ready!”

“My point still stands.” 

 


End file.
